


Oh?

by ToodleBoog



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Aftercare, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:27:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22989343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToodleBoog/pseuds/ToodleBoog
Summary: I have no self control
Relationships: Cyclonus/Tailgate/Whirl (Transformers)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 31





	Oh?

Cyclonus held the spike pressed idly to his lips for a long second, the weight and heat of it on his dermal plates was enticing, if not  _ incredibly _ arousing. Whirl revved his arm fans, the spike twitching against the horned mech's lips, so close to that wet heat but oh so far away. Cyclonus, however, liked to take his time with these things.

"Patience…" he murmured, pulling back. He trailed one hand up whirls stomach and flitted his claws against where his cockpit met his midsection then scraped them down, not enough to rend or mar the surface of Whirl's front, but enough to send recognizable shivers down his struts. Whirl squirmed away from the ghosting claws, their sting lasting all of a second but to whirl it went on and on, amplified tenfold by the hot throbbing between his legs. Tiny flakes of paint chipped away in hairline scratches, not visible at a passing glance but it was there, and whirl loved every damn second of it. 

Cyclonus pressed his lips to the sensitive cabling in whirls hips and held them there, mouthing around the wires and energon lines. He worked until he found the main energon line in the crook of whirls hip, and he gave it a quick little nip, causing whirl to jerk back in surprise. He let out a shaky sigh. Cyclonus continued, running his teeth over the line, pressing down with his sharper denta but never puncturing, Whirl's legs jerked every few seconds as he tried to relax into the bed.

Whirl moaned and buckled, pressing his cockpit down on top of Cyclonus for a brief moment as he tried to squirm away. Cyclonus growled and it was promptly lifted.

"Cyclonus I'm  _ begging you _ ." Whirl whined lowly, his fans kicking up a notch. Cyclonus took in the sight of the blue mech above him, he ducked out from under the cockpit and studied the desperate expression in the ex-wreckers eye with an irked look on his face.

"If you won't get on with it I'll come over there and do it myself-" he heard Tailgate say from the other bed. Cyclonus looked behind himself to find the minibot sitting crossed legged and a bit crookedly in his lazy stupor. His tiny lover- the whole reason he was over here in the first place was because tailgate hadn't the oral equipment to handle whirls spike. Primus knows he  _ would _ if he could, but even by Cyclonus' standards, Whirl was  **_big._ **

"Little one- just a moment  _ please _ . I'm sizing up my palate here, this isn't exactly  _ easy _ you know." He said, motioning. 

Whirl gave a short chuckle and Tailgate snickered.

"Compliments aside-" Whirl pushed.

"-Yes, of course." Cyclonus answered, with a wet kiss to the spike before him, no less. 

Whirl let out a rev of relief, relaxing from a tense position that seemed just as unforeseen to himself as it was to Cyclonus.

Intrigued, he tested his power by licking a hard stripe from the base of whirls spike to it's head and wrapping his lips ever so slightly around it,

just enough so that Whirl could feel the  _ heat _ of his mouth. To his amusement it broke the one eyed mech.

" _ Ohhh~ slag, Cyclonus- _ " he moaned, throwing his head back with a clank against the wall, the yellow of his optic reflecting back off the metal paneling. Cyclonus drank his praise hungrily and payed it back by sinking his mouth around Whirl's spike, taking in what he could. The weight of it on his glossa paired with the smell of dried oral lubricant on Whirl's hips invited him to lose himself in the moment. He could hear Tailgate vent harshly, trying to keep his temperature down. He smiled internally at the fact that his little show was turning the minibot on so much. It was charming. He liked riling him up.

He made a point to sink down further and he felt the thighs on either side of him start to shake. He pulled off with much protest from the mech above him and aimed for the hip joint just adjacent. 

Cyclonus kissed the metal and scraped it with his teeth, digging his sharper denta into the flexible armour. 

With his hand he kept Whirl's spike busy while he mouthed at the sensitive plating, moving his way into the very sensitive joint socket. The leg in question jerked and he reluctantly fell back.

"You're moving too _ slow-- _ " Whirl groaned, bucking his hips into Cyclonus' hand.

"And you're moving too fast." he replied, slowing his pace to glacial speeds. Whirl shouted in frustration, scraping his claws on the bed and leaving grey paint transfers in their wake. It wasn't the first time he'd left scuffs on the bed and it probably wouldn't be the  _ last _ .

"All in good time, Whirl. You remember how good it feels when it lasts?" he hummed. Whirl huffed.

"Well it's been  **_lasting_ ** all night!" He said, putting his head back again. 

Cyclonus recalled to earlier that night; A little joint downtown a bit that Tailgate had found. They served good drinks and food, and played good music, and, well- here they were back at their place, the events all adding up.

Cyclonus felt a hand on his leg, trailing up towards his inner thigh with flirting little motions and he shuddered, bringing Whirl's spike into his mouth again.

"Open your panels?" He heard Tailgate say. Little digits dragged lightly over the thin sheet of metal, eliciting a purr from Cyclonus' engine as the vibrations sent his gut curling. He felt torn between answering him and taking the hot weight out of his mouth. He settled with a hum and let his panels slide open, feeling tailgate slide his fingers into an already over lubricating valve.

"You look so pretty, Cyclonus." Tailgate said, finding a cluster of nodes to abuse. Cyclonus' fans stuttered and he moaned around the spike in his mouth. It was no lie that Cyclonus liked rougher treatment, but there was something about the way that Tailgate worked him over that sent him spinning with pleasure.

Whirl grunted as Cyclonus bobbed his head up and down his length, claws rattling at his sides.

"You're very good at this, horns-" he gasped. 

Whirl bucked his hips into Cyclonus' throat and he gagged, reeling back and hacking up prefluid. 

" _ Careful! _ " He said raspily, grabbing his throat with a wince on his face. Whirl delicately pet his helm and muttered a sorry. Tailgate slowed his ministrations until Cyclonus looked well enough to continue. 

When he finally got his bearings (and mouth around Whirl's spike again) he felt Tailgate shift his back end so that he was hovering right over his spike, his legs splayed out and his knees to either side of Tailgate's, shaking like a newly emerged turbo fawn He felt the little hands on his hips slowly push down and he let himself be moved, his hips creaking as the secondary joint socket flexed, allowing his body to be pushed into an otherwise painful position. 

He sank onto the thick little spike with a groan and he slowed his pace drastically, the sheer overwhelming feeling of being stretched taking up his processing power. He pulled off of Whirl's spike with a shuddering gasp.

"Ah-  _ Tailgate-" _

"Shhhh, don't focus on me, focus on Whirl." He cut him off softly, rubbing his back with tiny little hands, tracing transformation seams and pulling at exposed wires in his hips. Cyclonus groaned and went back to Whirl, using a hand to help his sore throat. 

Tailgate gave an experimental bounce and Cyclonus grunted, throwing his head up into Whirl's cockpit. Wincing, he stilled his head and took a second to vent harshly as Tailgate did it again. He felt Tailgate's wet digits trail in circles around the sensitive lip of his spike housing, sending jolts of pleasure into his gut and his spike pressurised into Tailgate's already waiting hand.

" _ Cyclonus don't lose focus. _ " Tailgate muttered, languidly stroking his spike. Cyclonus bucked his hips into the touch and pressed loose kisses down the length of Whirl's spike, trailing the back of his claws up it's length then back down, giving whirl an exciting sense of danger, the sharp tips barely touching the sensitive metal but just enough to be felt. Whirl shook with the strain of an overload long since due, his claws tapping on the bed incessantly.

Tailgate suddenly increased the rhythm of his thrusts, going from a slow, relaxed pace to a hard and fast one. Cyclonus' legs gave out as the sudden shift in speed sent him into blind bliss. He fell down with a cry of pleasure, his teeth gritting together from the sheer intensity of it all. He tried his best to continue to suck Whirl off, but his moments were becoming sloppy and uncoordinated. He moaned around the spike and Whirl sputtered, using shakey claws to keep Cyclonus' head in place as he struggled to not thrust into his throat. The hand on his spike started to move with vigor and Cyclonus felt himself fall over the edge. 

He overloaded with a loud groan, optics offlining in a brilliant flash of red as the hand working his spike slowed to a stop. Transfluid dripped from his chest and stomach onto the berth. Whirl groaned his overload and Cyclonus pulled off, just in time for transfluid to hit him hotly in the face. He felt his fans stall for a moment and kick back up as his systems desperately tried to cool off his overheated frame. 

He pushed Whirl aside and gave his arms a rest, resting his chest on the cool surface of the bed.

Tailgate however, wasn't done. He slowed his thrusts for Cyclonus' sake but he slowly brought him back up to his previous rhythm. Cyclonus moaned into the berth as tailgate brought him to a second overload, which Tailgate followed with his own. 

"Not a very ceremonious finish, but- I'll take it." Whirl said, hanging haphazardly off the bed. Cyclonus grumbled his apology while Tailgate went to get a rag for them all. 

He carefully wiped down Cyclonus' face first and went from there. In his drowsy, post overload high he heard the little box for the airbrush turn on, it's little buzzing whir suddenly being the only thing to fill his ears.

"Little rough, were we?" Cyclonus said with a tired chuckle, wanting more than anything to fall into recharge right there.

"Not  _ me,"  _ Tailgate said, and then paused, looking him over. "Well,  _ maybe _ me, but I'd be more concerned with your helm." He said, using a quiet hand to rotate Cyclonus' head while he squinted at the damage. Whirl let out an almost distant 'my bad' from where he lay now on Tailgate's bed. 

" _ Unf- _ how bad is it?" He asked, sitting up.

"Blue paint scuffs on your nose, forehelm and sides of your helm- _"_ he tut tutted in sympathy at the sight "-Yeah Cyc you got it good, here, lemme get that for you." He said, using a hand under Cyclonus' chin to tilt his face back and forth. The little box whirred into a higher notch and he felt the cool chill of paint hit his face, followed by the edge piece of an old packing box to keep the flow in line as he changed angles trying to make the patchwork seamless.

"Thank you." He muttered. Tailgate hummed in his concentration.

"Of course Cyclonus," Tailgate said softly after he was done, giving him a little peck on the cheek to finalize it. "We can finish up the ones that I left in the morning." 

"Hmm." was Cyclonus' only reply before he fell into a deep recharge.


End file.
